


in the aftermath.

by cherryade



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29939946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryade/pseuds/cherryade
Summary: Carlos squirms, yearning to reach out to wrap his arms around TK but he holds himself back. He is fairly certain that he will be lost the moment he has him in his arms.“Wanna talk about it?” TK says, breaking the silence.(Carlos has a nightmare about the events of 2x08. TK takes care of him.)
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 25
Kudos: 379





	in the aftermath.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There is a brief description of a panic attack. Discretion is advised.

His hands are trembling.

Carlos takes a swig of the whiskey in his hand and watches as the liquid sloshes violently. He doesn’t drink often, not when TK’s in the house but he keeps some for when friends come over. (TK has said over and over again that he doesn’t mind but Carlos does.) He squeezes his eyes shut. The dream flashes before his eyes and he rubs a hand down his face.

Of course it wasn’t enough that he had to live through it once. His subconscious also had to torture him with images of TK holding himself upright through sheer force of will and the generous aid of a sturdy table, blood streaking down his face. He thought he knew what relief felt like when he set eyes on TK alive and well after the day that he had had, but the feeling of finally holding TK in his arms had stolen his breath away.

“Carlos?” a sleepy voice calls from the stairs and Carlos jerks. The drink in his hand spills all over his fingers. He grimaces and wipes them on his sweatpants. There's a rustle of fabric before TK steps forward into the dim light, brows furrowed.

“You okay?” he asks. He’d just left the hospital that morning, clear of concussion, but the bruise that was on his temple had bloomed down the side of his face and across his forehead. Something constricts in Carlos’ chest and he sets the tumbler down on the table before he drops it.

“What’re you doing up?” he rasps and applauds himself for how steady his voice sounds. TK doesn’t need him upchucking his emotions all over him, not when he was still recovering from a traumatic ordeal.

“Missing my personal heater,” TK says, a crooked grin on his face. His eyes are hazy with pain and fatigue, but he watches Carlos intently as he makes his way across the room and sits down next to him.

“Is that all I am to you now?” Carlos slides his hands under himself in a futile bid to stop them from shaking.

Quiet falls over the room as they sit, punctuated only by the ticking of the clock. Carlos squirms, yearning to reach out to wrap his arms around TK but he holds himself back. He is fairly certain that he will be lost the moment he has him in his arms.

“Wanna talk about it?” TK says, breaking the silence. He shifts to face Carlos, expression soft and earnest. Carlos shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. TK frowns as he moves closer.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Carlos swallows as he watches TK’s approach. The look in TK’s eyes tells him that he can see right through him and suddenly, he doesn’t want to hold back anymore.

“Can I hold you?” he asks quietly. In the hush of the room, it sounds almost deafening. TK smiles gently as he scoots over, pressing his thighs against his.

“Of course, you can,” he says. “Always.”

Carlos reaches out and pulls him into a crushing hug. TK falls onto him with an oomph. He rearranges himself as much as Carlos’ hold allows and somehow manages to situate himself on Carlos’ lap. Carlos buries his face in the crook of TK’s neck. His breath is coming out in stuttering spurts.

“Jesus, Carlos, you’re shaking,” TK says as he pulls back. Carlos whines, and tightens his grip. The world has fallen out beneath his feet and if TK lets go, he’s going to fall along with it. “Babe, let me up. Let me check you out.”

He shakes his head. His heart is racing, pounding in his ears. TK doesn’t need this. He’d refused all pain meds, and his face was probably killing him. He didn’t need Carlos’ pain too.

He feels TK’s hand snake between them, fingers deftly finding his pulse point. He sucks in a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Babe,” TK whispers and in it is so much sadness and compassion that Carlos flinches. “Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says brokenly. TK sighs as a hand comes up to cradle his head. He can feel TK’s chin resting on the crown of his head, a comforting and grounding presence.

“There’s nothing to apologise for,” he says. “I would have been scared out of my mind. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

A sob builds up in his chest and he is helpless to stop it. It rips out of him in an ugly jagged tear and he clutches onto TK for dear life as the tide carries him away.

* * *

He wakes up to the sound of a muffled “thank you” and the door clicking shut.

Soft light is streaming in through the glass pane by the door as TK turns, a paper bag in hand. For a brief second, his face reveals his utter exhaustion which vanishes the moment their eyes meet. A smile spreads across his face as he hurries over and Carlos cannot help but return it.

“How’re you feeling?” TK asks as Carlos pulls himself up. His head protests the change in elevation and he closes his eyes.

“Like my head’s about to explode,” he mutters. TK clicks his tongue in sympathy. There’s a scrape of plastic, and a bottle of water is pressed into his hands. He opens his eyes and regards the bottle, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout him.

“Thank you,” he says as he looks up at TK. The two words feel inadequate to express what he feels but he thinks TK gets it when he reaches out a hand to gently caress his face.

“The water isn’t going to drink itself,” he replies and Carlos snorts. He uncaps the bottle and takes a drink, nearly moaning in satisfaction when the cool water slides down his parched throat. TK leans down to kiss him on the forehead and holds out the paper bags.

“I ordered us some breakfast from your favourite diner. You and I are going to finish this deliciousness, and then we are going to spend the rest of the day watching Netflix. Sound good?”

In the glow of the brightening day, TK seems almost ethereal. It occurs to him briefly that this was what he’d almost lost. The world still feels precarious, like its teetering on the edge of something, but he knows it'll be okay eventually.

“No place I’d rather be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own the sandbox, just really enjoy playing in it. Tbh, I managed to get it out this fast because I already had half of it written before the episode. I just have to say, Rafael was so good in this episode??


End file.
